


you look just right in the pale moonlight

by Cerberusia



Category: Glee
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Car Sex, Exhibitionism, M/M, Masturbation, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-09
Updated: 2011-07-09
Packaged: 2017-10-21 05:00:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/221203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerberusia/pseuds/Cerberusia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt and Karofsky have awkward not-precisely-sex in the backseat of a car. Naturally, their respective issues come into play.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you look just right in the pale moonlight

**Author's Note:**

> Set some after Blaine tells Kurt he's not sexy, but before they get together. Title from 'Nearly In Love'.

They drive to a woodland area just out of town. It's quiet, a little secluded and perfect for what Kurt has in mind.

"Back seat," he says shortly, unclipping his seatbelt. Karofsky obeys, a quick flick of eyes in the rear view mirror. Kurt ignores it and climbs over the gear shift. Karofsky joins him.

Kurt promptly crawls into his lap, straddles his legs - it's okay if he doesn't think about it too hard - and kisses him. He is hyper-aware of everywhere their bodies are touching. One of Karofsky's huge hands rests on his back, the other cups his cheek. He can feel body heat through his t-shirt. It's surprisingly comfortable.

It's a good kiss, he thinks, as his very limited experience of kissing goes: it sets off a low buzz beneath his skin. Karofsky is gentle with him, tentative. At any moment, he could freak out and punch him, but his willing and the slight tremor of his hand says he won't. Karofsky's big, heavy hands and his bulk are peculiarly comforting. He still doesn't like him, barely trusts him enough for this, but this unexpected tenderness charms him.

It's all terribly chaste, and Kurt wonders about just keeping it to kissing for the moment, but then he remembers: he's got something to prove. He _is_ sexy, damnit, and Karofsky is as gay as he is and he's going to make him _admit_ it, by god. He opens his mouth, presses his hands more insistently against Karofsky's chest. Karofsky makes that funny little noise he made back in the locker room, high-pitched and a little desperate, and takes the opportunity that Kurt offers up.

The hand on his cheek slides to grip the back of his neck, and Karofsky pulls him in. The inside of his mouth is softer than Kurt might have thought. But then, this is the first time he's done this. When their tongues brush, it feels wet and like sparks all at once.

He can feel Karofsky taking quick breaths. Who knows, maybe it's his first time too.

He tries to shift closer, make it more sexual. Heavy petting is fun and all, but he's focussed on his twofold mission. Karofsky is going to admit that he likes cock, and Kurt is going to get a much-needed ego-boost over the fact that the cock in question is his. He briefly wonders whether he should fake-moan, but he'd feel ridiculous trying. Besides, he's never _needed_ to fake it - he's embarrassingly loud. He has to bite the heel of his hand when he's just masturbating by himself, so God only knows how loud he's going to get now. Good thing this place is pretty out-of-the-way.

The tingling intensifies as he determinedly presses his mouth against Karofsky's. He's not entirely sure what he's doing, truth be told, but he's having a lot of fun doing it. It feels good for him, and Karofsky's enthusiam suggests he's enjoying himself just as much.

It hits him, then: he is on top of and making out with a boy. Who is enjoying it. Who is enjoying it so much, in fact, that his heartbeat and breathing are going wild and he's all but humping Kurt's leg. There is no greater aphrodisiac than this. His cock was already kind of interested, but now his jeans are uncomfortably tight, and he feels hot all over.

Tentatively, rather shyly, one of Karofsky's hands makes its way to rest on his ass. Kurt nearly jumps - that was quick - before kissing harder, making sure that Karofsky gets the message that this is what he wants. Then the hand _squeezes_ , and he squeaks.

Karofsky's body shakes briefly underneath him, and Kurt's pretty sure he's laughing. Ordinarily he'd get offended, but it's defused some of the awkwardness. So instead he just presses his weight down in Karofsky's lap, and now both hands are on his ass as Karofsky inhales sharply through his nose, hard against Kurt's inner thigh. Kurt can actually feel the tension in his muscles as he strains not to press up. He's shaking again, just a little. Is he scared? Kurt rocks forward, encouraging. But still Karofsky shrinks back. Impatient and perplexed, Kurt pulls back.

"What's the matter?" he asks, a touch breathily. Karofsky is flushed and panting, and his eyes keep sliding away from Kurt's to fix on the upholstery. "Come on, you're enjoying this, right?" Oh God, where did the confidence to say that come from?

"I," Karofsky fumbles for the words. "I, I'm not. Gay."

Kurt snorts. "I'm pretty sure you are."

"I'm _not_." Karofsky's scowling something fierce, tensing up. It's scary in the context of their relationship, but at this distance Kurt can see the vulnerability behind the machismo. He realises with sudden clarity that Karofsky is far more scared than he is.

"Sure," says Kurt, dryly. But there's no point arguing now - better a physical demonstration. So he leans forward again to kiss Karofsky, as best he can with only ten minutes worth of experience (and isn't it strange, to think of it like that - a few minutes of sloppy making out with his tormentor, and what he's planning to do - but it makes sense, and should improve both their lives drastically. He hopes).

He wriggles a bit, and slowly Karofsky's arms tighten again and he kisses back. He still won't grind, but sometimes his hips jerk up or he moans quietly, so Kurt knows he wants to. In desperation, he shifts to straddle Karofsky's thigh and begins to rut against it in earnest. He's dimly aware that he's being quite loud, not to mention high-pitched, and that he's probably a red-faced mess, but that seems to do it for Karofsky, who seizes him by the hips and thrusts up at last.

It's a slightly awkward angle, but they do alright with a bit of effort, grinding against each other's thighs. They break lips and Karofsky presses his open mouth into Kurt's throat, panting, breath hitting Kurt's pulse point and setting off sparks under his skin. His hands slide up Kurt's shirt, and Kurt mentally holds his breath: is he going to freak out at the lack of breasts?

But he doesn't. Rather, he cautiously rubs his palms up Kurt's sides, feels the edge of a pectoral and experimentally rubs a thumb over a nipple. Immediately, Kurt seizes his shoulders with a gasp. A slight pause, then he gently twists it - and Kurt _howls_. When, embarrassed, he opens his eyes again, Karofsky is looking at him like - like he doesn't know what.

He does it again, a little harder this time, and Kurt has to bite his lip. He knew they were sensitive, but he hadn't expected _that_. It's kind of humiliating, nearly coming just from having his nipple tweaked, but Karofsky is entranced. His other hand comes up to play with Kurt's other nipple, sending sharp jolts of pleasure through him, and Kurt is horribly aware that he's making muffled squeaking noises and rutting harder against Karofsky's thigh. He can feel the edges of orgasm - but when Karofsky's hand abruptly reaches down to fondle him him through his jeans with a frustrated groan, he forces himself to grab the hand and stop him. He pulls away and takes a moment to pull himself together.

"You're not going to touch me," he says, as calm and matter-of-fact as he can manage. Tiny frown lines appear on Karofsky's face. "You can watch," he adds, by way of explanation. Karofsky frowns harder, but then his face smooths out into comprehension. He's a bit pink. Well, so's Kurt.

Carefully, he climbs off Karofsky to sit on the other side of the backseat. First things first: he takes off his cardigan. It's warm in the car anyway. Tension coils hot and low in his abdomen. Karofsky just stares at him. He bends to take off his shoes and socks, then straightens up to slowly peel his shirt off over his head. He can't look Karofsky in the eye.

Then the jeans. There's no graceful way to get them off, but he does his best. Karofsky doesn't seem to care, apparently transfixed by Kurt's chest. Kurt knows his nipples are red from being rubbed and pinched, and is embarrassed by the contrast against his pale skin, but Karofsky looks like he wants to lick them, or something and _oh_. He shivers a little.

He's down to his underwear now. Karofsky is still fully dressed. The power dynamics should be obvious - but Kurt understands the way Karofsky looks at him. Karofsky wants him: he's in control. And that gives him the confidence to finally remove his last piece of clothing to sit naked, legs splayed, in front of Karofsky. He's thin and pale, jutting hipbones and ribs just barely under skin, but Karofsky looks at him like he's desirable, and so he is.

Now Karofsky is definitely looking at his cock. It should be awkward, but Karofsky is so obviously admiring yet ashamed, red to his neck, that Kurt hasn't the heart or even the desire to tell him to look away.

The next bit is embarrassing, though: Kurt reaches up to his chest with one hand and - God, he feels like a girl doing this - starts to play with his nipples, twisting and flicking them. It doesn't feel quite as good as when someone else does it, but it's enough that he has to bite his lip again, though he can't keep himself from making small, high-pitched moans in the back of his throat. He's as quiet as he can be, but in the stillness of the car, it's obscenely loud.

His cock is hard and leaking against his stomach, and Karofsky's gaze flickers between it and his chest. His mouth is open, he's panting and at this distance Kurt can make out the bulge of his dick in his jeans. He looks desperate.

Dizzy with arousal and power, Kurt reaches down to take his cock in one hand - but it's Karofsky who moans. Kurt loves how into it he is - he hasn't even touched his own dick, but he's possibly more turned on and closer to coming than Kurt at the moment.

And so Kurt starts to jerk off for him, relishing the power it gives him. This isn't going to last long, but he wants to draw it out just a little. Really, he wants to see Karofsky masturbating - he obviously wants to, but the way his fingers dig into his thighs says he won't let himself.

Kurt keeps stroking his cock, but stops biting his lip. He feels a bit awkward at first, moaning so loudly, but that vanishes when Karofsky exhales harshly and practically vibrates with arousal. If Kurt squints, he imagines he might even be able to see Karofsky's dick twitch, and _god_ what a thought. He goes faster, trying to will Karofsky to get out his dick.

An idea occurs to him - what if he does it like he sometimes does at home, when he's as alone as he can be and buries his face in his pillow so he doesn't scream the house down? Bet Karofsky'd go for _that_. So he brings his free hand to his mouth and takes in his index finger. He'd try to make it sexy, sort of a simulated blowjob, but he isn't sure how to do that without looking really stupid, so instead he just gets it as wet as he can before taking it out and positioning it just at the entrance to his ass, shifting so he's half-lying, half-sitting on the seat. He wishes he had actual lube, but this is the best he can do and he'll take it.

He spreads his legs wider and slides his finger in very gently, still slowly pumping his cock to distract himself in case it hurts. It doesn't, though - he's got good at this, these past few months. He automatically wants to close his eyes, but he consciously keeps them open to watch Karofsky's face. He looks like he's dying.

"Why won't you..." He can't actually say it, which, everything considered, is absolutely ridiculous. But Karofsky gets what he means, and flushes an even darker red.

"I'm not. Like that." Oh, for god's _sake_.

"Really?" he snaps, aware that the finger in his ass is making it difficult to keep his voice steady. "I think you are. Actually, I know you are. So stop being stupid and just _jerk off already_." And with that, he tilts his head back and concentrates on finding his prostate. Let Karofsky be stupid and repressed if he wants, he intends to enjoy himself.

He curls his finger, and _there_ , just there - he's being noisy again, but he doesn't care. He feels bizarrely _free_. His knees come up automatically, legs jerking as he rubs that spot over and over again, working his finger in and out of himself, and finally, _finally_ he sees Karofsky wrench open his pants and take his cock in hand with a desperate groan.

They both come quickly after that: Kurt shoving his finger in harder and faster, gasping, and Karofsky, red-faced and almost crying, hand working fast in his lap, hunched over, but Kurt can still see his cock and he focusses on it, imagines how it might feel to have another boy's cock in his hand, in his mouth, in him -

He comes watching Karofsky watch him.

Relaxing and letting his finger slip out slowly, he watches Karofsky come through his post-orgasmic haze. It's completely undignified - a lot of grunting and vaguely pained faces - but it's still _really_ hot.

Of course, now that Karofsky's come, his senses are going to make their triumphant return. Kurt anticipates a freakout, and Karofsky doesn't disappoint: approximately five seconds after orgasm, his eyes go very wide and he starts glancing wildly from side to side. He opens his mouth -

"Stop it," says Kurt, tiredly. "You can have your inevitable teenage sexuality crisis hopefully culminating in a moment of truth _later_. For now, I suggest you settle back down, stop thinking and learn the art of cuddling." And with that, he shifts across the seat to drape himself across Karofsky. A small but loud voice in the back of his head demands to know _what the hell he thinks he's doing_ , but he cheerfully ignores it. It might just be the orgasm talking, but he doesn't feel frightened of Karofsky any more. There's no reason for him to have stopped, not really, but - they've just shared something here. Sex, of a sort, but something else. Without talking, they've bonded a little.

Very hesitantly, Karofsky puts his arms around him. He's very comfortable. In a short while, they're going to have to stop cuddling and this is going to get _really_ awkward, but for now Kurt is content to rest his head in the crook of Karofsky's neck, smelling of boy and sweat and maybe a little bit like _safety_ \- and it seems like, just right now, Karofsky is content to do the same.


End file.
